Heavy Knight Novels & Stories

A male's cock sheath is his only vulnerability in dragon form. From the corner of my eye, I see Henry running and leaping over burning bodies. With a large club in his hands, he launches from the stairway and somehow manages to land on Drakon's back. It's my chance. Drakon spins and tries to dislodge him. I charge in low and avoid his tail. My forward momentum allows me to slide the last few feet to try to get under him.

He was usually the quiet type only speaking once in a while. The colosseum was extremely large. It wasn’t just for classes but also school competitions and huge events. The Reality Practicals was one of my favorite classes, our lecturer is Ser Godfrey Hernas, a very tall man among even Andovians and Estonians. I always found it strange how he was able to easily carry a hammer which weighed about five thousand pounds, that's the size of an incredibly large boulder. I later came to discover how powerful a lycan weapon is. It could make the object lighter and increase the normal stats of the wielder.

A man whom Alex greeted as Marco, met us and led us down a dark damp corridor, the air was thick with the smell of decay and something else… something unsettling. Then I saw him. A figure clad in black, leaning against a wall in the shadows. He was impossibly tall, with a face that could have been sculpted by a Renaissance master, marred only by a permanent intimidating scowl. Dante Giordano of the legends. He exuded raw power, an aura of danger that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He gave me a disdainful glance before turning to Alex, his expression a silent, ‘Who the hell is this?’

She glided lightly over the ground, her magic both elegant and devastating. On the far flank, Oscar, the second son of the King of Dreadmoor — a mountain of a man — slammed his fists into the ground. The earth split beneath the Dark Knights’ feet, jagged pillars of stone erupting to trap and crush. His dark armour gleamed, his black eyes blazing with controlled rage “Try getting through this, you bastards!” he growled.

I asked as I leaned closer. Without looking away from the screen, he tilted the laptop slightly so I could see it better. “He’s from the Dark Sky Pack,” Kael said. “Under Alpha Manuel.” My eyes scanned the information. Craig Duponte. Twenty-six years old. Lead warrior. Elite status. I continued reading until I reached the physical description and blinked before reading it again. Over three hundred pounds. Seven feet tall. I looked back toward the arena floor. The guy wasn’t a warrior. He was a damn mountain with legs. Meanwhile, Traci barely stood five feet tall and weighed little more than a strong breeze. The comparison alone irritated me.

You have a warlord to kill. He found Kael Blackthorn at the center of the battlefield, surrounded by his remaining elite guard. The warlord was massive, his body covered in scars, his eyes burning with madness. "Drake Hale," Kael said, his voice a low rumble. "I've heard of you. They say you're the greatest warrior of your generation." "They exaggerate," Drake said, his sword raised. "Do they?" Kael smiled, revealing teeth filed to points. "Let's find out."

My legs told me to run, but I stayed rooted, caught between fear and fascination. The bike slowed, then stopped just a few feet away. The rider pulled off his helmet, shaking out dark hair. Broad shoulders, leather jacket, jeans torn at the knee. A scar slashed across his jawline, making him look even harder, sharper. “Road’s no place for a girl alone this late,” he said, voice rough like gravel. My pulse jumped. “I’m fine,” I blurted, though the crack in my voice betrayed me. He studied me, eyes sharp and unflinching. “Name’s Blake. You lost?”

“Where the hell is that king?” He thought about improvising. He must find a quick way to settle this first phase of his plan without using much mana. Then he heard some heavy footsteps nearby. From the sound of it, it was an armoured personnel, a knight. The man opened the door a little to take a peek. The knight was wearing a suit of black armour. His hair was silver and wore a black cape with a dark blue inner colour of the cape. The man who was hiding exactly who that knight was.

The younger maid finally smiled and answered, "Yes you may, sir. We address him here as Master Kai, but he is known as the second son of the Duke, Quin Kaylus." He suddenly froze from what he heard. "But I apologize, good sir. He won't be back until this evening for he is to attend the Grand Passing Ceremony which is a very important event for our whole nation. He instructed us to clean your wounds and check up on you after an hour for your medicine." Images of the darkened soldiers laughing with their scorching fire flashed his head. His body started to sweat heavily as he felt the sharp pain in his chest. A memory of his grandfather filled his mind. Tortured.

To be more precise, in a knight's iron helmet that covered his entire face and left only his eyes. “Aaaaaaakkkkkkkk! ...” The giant knight golem roared loudly. His body staggered backward thanks to Damien's unmistakable punch. Although he is not in the form of Dracula, never underestimate the status of a noble class vampire who is nicknamed One-Man-Army for the Trinity Kingdom. Dummmm~ ... The giant knight golem that took Damien's hard right hand hit right in the face causing his iron helmet to crack fell on the ground. Damien landed both feet on the giant knight golem's chest, stood right in front of the giant's face, and grinned.